Hell on Heels:

by Brittani Williams

Genres: African American; African American Urban

Synopsis

Milan Brooks, a fashion buyer with a chip on her shoulder, has been through her share of cheating, disrespectful men. In most people's books she'd be rated a true dime, but she still hasn't been lucky enough to find a loyal man. When a chance encounter with a childhood friend turns into a promising relationship, Milan thinks things might be different this time. Unfortunately, her younger sister steps in with plans of her own.

Shekia feels nothing but envy when she looks at her sister. She is just as beautiful as Milan, but lacks confidence. Milan wants to get closer to her sister, but with jealousy and rage brewing in her heart, Shekia pushes her away. She's tired of playing in Milan's shadow, and she has every intention of taking her place.

Sapphire has struggled with insecurities most of her life, but she thinks she's finally figured it out. She's working as a dancer at a local strip club to pay her way through college, and though she isn't looking for a man, Mr. Right has fallen into her lap. She's on cloud nine, until she realizes his true colors. Feeling trapped, she makes one bad decision after another, altering the course of her life.

In Hell on Heels, the lives of these three women collide, leading to devastating consequences. Reminiscent of Brittani's debut novel, Daddy's Little Girl, expect the unexpected, because nothing is what it seems.

Release date: May 1, 2014

Publisher: Urban Audiobooks

Print pages: 288

Sample

1991

Just like the lyrics, I was popping my pussy and not planning on stopping until my G-string was full of all the cash he carried. The private room in the Velvet Rope was the place to be. Here you could put all of your skills to use without any distractions. As the sounds of Uncle Luke’s “I Wanna Rock” blared through the speakers, my ass cheeks were taking turns jiggling in front of my best customer.

Enzo was his name. Standing well over six feet tall, all muscle with a smooth Hershey’s chocolate skin tone, most women would jump his bones without a second thought. Granted, he was fine as all hell but looks weren’t enough for me. I mean yeah, he had cash for days, but the things that I’d heard about him through the grapevine were enough to make me afraid. Not only was I afraid that he’d break my heart, but my face if I didn’t abide by his rules. He’s been known to bust a bitch in the mouth even in public, and I wasn’t trying to go out like that. Despite it all, there was just something magnetic about him, and I couldn’t stop myself from being mesmerized every time he stepped in the building. Still, I decided to play hard to get as long as he kept chasing. I mean why not? At least he’d appreciate it when he got it.

“What’s so special about this pussy that I need to pay for it?” Enzo asked while keeping his eyes steady on my gyrating torso just two feet in front of him.

“You’ve already dropped five hundred dollars tonight and all you’ve done was look at it. Hell you haven’t even smelled the pussy yet. If you have money to spend on watching me why not invest a little more to fuck me?” I yelled over the loud music.

Enzo sat there staring at my Coke-bottle frame and protruding camel toe. I could see the bulge in his pants quickly growing as he squirmed a little in his seat. He’d been spending at least two stacks every weekend just to watch me dance in a private room; this weekend was no different.

“If you come home with me after your shift I’ll give you much more. I want the pussy trust me; I just don’t want to treat you like a prostitute,” Enzo replied.

“I told you that’s against the rules. If I come home with you, I’d have to quit my job. Are you ready to take care of me?” I asked while continuing the lap dance that he’d paid me for.

“I got’chu. I told you before: I have enough bread to support a small village. Shit, if you get down with me you’ll never have to shake your ass for money again. I’m being real. I come pay for these private shows so other niggas won’t get to touch what I already consider to belong to me. I just want you to stop playing games wit’ a nigga and give me what I need.”

“What’chu need?” I asked with raised eyebrows.

“You heard me,” he replied, grabbing a hold of his crotch while discussing the matter at hand.

“I’ll have to think about it, Enzo,” I said softly. I was afraid of him and the trouble that followed wherever he went. There had been at least two shootouts in the very same club when he and his rivals went to war.

“Think quick because I’m not gonna’ keep beggin’. Trust me there’s no shortage of pussy around for a nigga like me,” he said as he sat up in his seat.

“Enzo, I’m sure you can get any woman you want so I know moving on to the next bitch would be easy. Clearly, it’s something that I have that they don’t,” I spoke with confidence.

“Oh, yeah? Well, I guess I wouldn’t know, would I, since I haven’t, in your words, even ‘smelled the pussy.’ But I got’chu. You wanna play this game and I’m not playing it no more. I got people to see and bitches to do, so I’ll see you around, all right?” he said as he stood from his seat, reached in his pocket, and retrieved another one hundred dollar bill. He looked at me and threw it in my direction before turning his back and walking out of the VIP room.

I stood there for a second before bending down to pick up the bill from the floor. I shook my head before walking out of the room and going to the dressing room. A few other women sat at different stations applying makeup, fixing their hair, and gossiping. I walked over to the free station at the far end of the room with a puppy-dog face. I was upset that I hadn’t just followed my heart and gone with him. At this point, I felt that I’d screwed up any chance that I had with Enzo. Eliza, another dancer, walked over to me and bent over to look into the mirror.

“What’s wrong, girl? Your night is ending early I see. Where is your high roller?” Eliza asked while fixing the flyaways on her hair.

“He left,” I replied.

“This early? What happened?” she asked with raised eyebrows.

“He kept pestering me about going home with him and I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that.”

“Comfortable? Girl, you work in a strip club shaking your ass and flashing your pussy for money. This nigga has spent thousands of dollars on you and you’re afraid to give him some? Girl, if I were you I’d be at his crib bouncing on that dick right now and leaving with a fat-ass clutch full of money.” She laughed while adjusting her bra.

“I’m afraid that I’m going to like him. I’m not trying to fall in love,” I said honestly.

“Girl, I know you’re young but if you’re gonna catch feelings for every nigga who throws you some change this might not be the profession for you. There is too much money to be made for that love shit. Girl, get yourself together and get out on the floor and do what you do best. I’ll see you out there,” she said before walking out of the dressing room.

I looked over at the other girls who were giggling and whispering, probably about me. I had learned early on that it was better to bite my tongue versus fighting every chick who had something negative to say. True, I did get naked and dance for men every night but I never thought of myself the way that the other women did. I wasn’t about to prostitute myself or be made to feel like one. At that point I wasn’t in the mood to go out on the floor so I put on my clothes, grabbed my bags, and headed out of the dressing room.

As I walked through the club I noticed Enzo getting a lap dance from none other than Eliza. He looked over at me, smiled, and then placed a few bills into her G-string. Instead of embarrassing myself or causing a ruckus in the club I shook my head and walked out quietly. As I waved good-bye to the bouncer I paused. I couldn’t just walk away quietly. What the hell am I doing? I thought. Quiet wasn’t one of my characteristics, especially when I felt like I was being disrespected.

“Could you hold this bag behind the desk for me? I forgot something,” I said as I handed the door attendant my bag. “Thanks. I’ll be right back.”

Walking back into the club I spotted Enzo being escorted to the private room in the back. I briskly walked across the floor until I was standing right outside of the room. I nodded at the bouncer who stood in front of the door before speaking. “Hey, I think I dropped my earring inside. I just need to run in real quick.”

“All right, just stay out the way; it’s a couple dancers working.”

“I will,” I replied before going in. I took a deep breath preparing myself for the altercation because I knew what I’d come to do. I wasn’t about to allow that backstabbing bitch to steal him from right under me. I walked over to where Eliza was straddling Enzo, grinding her crotch into his jeans. Without warning, I grabbed a handful of Eliza’s hair and pulled her down to the floor. Immediately I began punching and kicking her in the face and torso. Eliza screamed as she tried to gather up the strength to stand up but I knocked her back down each time. Enzo, at first sitting still, was now trying to separate Eliza from my death grip. After the bouncer entered and intervened they were able to pull her loose.

“You dirty bitch! You couldn’t even wait until I left, could you?” I yelled.

“You didn’t want him so why let a good specimen go to waste?” she replied with a laugh.

I struggled to get away from the bouncer. “So is this what you wanted? To make me jealous, Enzo?” I yelled.

Enzo nodded without a vocal response, only frustrating me more.

“You know what? Fuck you and fuck this.” I snatched away from the bouncer and stormed out of the club. I walked toward my car and fumbled with my keys until they fell to the ground. I was angrier with myself than I was with either of them. I’d let my own fears and insecurities stop me from pursuing him. I bent down to pick up the keys and was startled when Enzo appeared behind me.

“So you had to see me with another chick before you decided that you wanted me?”

“Enzo, I don’t have anything to say to you, okay?”

“I don’t need you to speak,” he said as he pushed me up against the car and forcefully kissed me.

For the first time I was able to feel his lips and the excitement sent a signal through my body that made me shiver. His dick was rock hard and practically bursting through his jeans. The closer he got the more it poked me. I didn’t try to fight him. At that moment I wanted him just as much as he wanted me.

“Take me home with you,” I spoke once we separated.

“I thought you’d never ask that.” He smiled. “Your car or mine?” He laughed.

“Yours of course.”

He laughed before signaling with his hand in the direction of his car. We walked over and I smiled at the all-black Range Rover parked near the rear of the parking lot. I’d heard that Enzo had bank but this ride was confirmaion of that. Only rich white men and drug dealers could afford vehicles that expensive. I stepped inside after he walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for me. Once inside, we remained quiet, both of us obviously unsure of what to say to the other. I was thinking about the night’s events and wondering if I’d made the right decisions by coming with him.

“You know, your stage name should be Mayweather the way you were in there throwing jabs.” He laughed. “I’ve had a lot of women fight over me in the past but never a woman I haven’t even been intimate with. You shocked the hell out of me.”

“Well, it really wasn’t even about you; it was the principle. She knew what she was doing and she did it purposely to get at me. I don’t like shady bitches like that.”

“Oh, so it wasn’t about me, huh? If it wasn’t about me then why are you here with me now?”

“Because I like you. I was just afraid of you,” I spoke with a smile.

“Afraid of what?” he asked.

“Your life, the rumors, all of it. I was just scared, okay?” I replied honestly.

“Well, no point in dwelling on all of that. You’re here now and I’m glad.” He reached across the seat and placed his hand on my thigh.

I looked down at his hand and smiled. I’d convinced myself that I’d made the right move and I planned to give exactly what he’d been asking for. He could fuck me all over his place or anywhere else for that matter. I wasn’t playing anymore and I wanted him to know it. Fuck waiting. I set my bag down on the floor out of the way and slid his hand off of my thigh. He looked over at me but didn’t speak. I reached over and grabbed the belt of his pants and unbuckled it.

“What are you doing?” he asked with a devilish grin.

“Giving you what’chu need. You asked; now I’m going to deliver.” I unzipped his jeans and his hard dick made its way through his boxers. I was excited because he was working with the tools I was sure to enjoy. I took the tip of my index finger and rubbed the tip of his dick, removing the small puddle of pre-cum, and quickly licked it off of my finger. With his left hand on the wheel he swerved a little but quickly regained control of the car. I smiled briefly before wrapping my thick-ass lips around it and sliding my tongue down the shaft, tapping the back of my throat with the head.

“Goddamn, girl, you’re gonna make me crash,” he moaned.

I could feel him picking up speed as I sucked and slurped on his ten-inch stick. It throbbed inside of my mouth as I continued to do one of the things I did best. Giving great head was an art and I’d mastered it, or so I’d been told. Soon I could feel the car slow to a complete stop and he quickly moved me away. I wasn’t sure why he’d stopped me until I sat up completely and realized we were parked in a driveway.

“Come on, get out,” he said as he got out of the car not bothering to conceal his dick, which was stiff as a board.

I got out of the car and walked around the front only to be met by him in the center. Without speaking he lifted my dress, pushed me over toward the hood of the car, and rammed his dick inside of me from behind. It was pitch black outside. Only the motion light from his driveway shined on us like a spotlight. I didn’t care if we could be seen. His dick felt so good that I felt myself cumming within seconds of contact.

“Is this what you wanted?” I asked breathlessly.

He didn’t respond. He was palming my breasts with both hands and fucking me with force. You could hear his body slapping up against mine over the night sounds of the crickets. The heat from the car hood had me sweating bullets but I couldn’t stop him. I didn’t want to. He continued to pound me from behind for what felt like an hour until he quickly removed his dick and pushed me to the ground just in time to cum in my mouth. Now, I know most people would call me every ho in the book for this, but, hell, I worked in a strip club so I was far from conservative. He let out a loud sigh and smiled as I rose from my squatted position.

“I’m not done. I’m about to wax that ass all over this house.” He slapped me on the ass and guided me toward the door.

I smiled as I was satisfied with my decision and I was looking forward to the long night ahead of me.

I wasn’t excited; as a matter of fact I didn’t give a shit! I mean really, every time she decided to visit everyone acted as if the Queen of England were arriving. Yeah, you might be thinking I was just the jealous baby sister, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Honestly, there wasn’t anything about Milan that I envied. In my eyes, she was a fuckup who almost got her act together. I didn’t give a damn whether she’d become a millionaire; your past is your past. You could try to run from it, but you’ll never really escape it. So who am I? I’m sure that’s your next question. I’m Shekia, who most would have called a plain bitch. I was cool with that title, because I wore it well and one thing you could never say was that I took anyone’s crap.

Thinking back to my childhood, I couldn’t remember a time when I genuinely liked my sister. She always had a huge head and swore her shit didn’t stink. When my mother shipped her ass to Atlanta I was ecstatic. I was finally rid of her and her funky-ass attitude. Five years later, she was on her way back to Philly for good and I’d already prepared myself for a fight. I was great at the fifty-two fake out, so from the outside you’d believe we were the best of friends. If only people knew the real story. I was twelve years old when she left and so much had changed since then. I was a different person and I was certain she wouldn’t like who I’d become.

Anyhow, it was the day before her return and I went about my day as planned. Typically, school wasn’t on the agenda, but I hadn’t been able to get in touch with my boyfriend, Mannie, and I wasn’t about to sit outside the door like a lost puppy. I walked into the building feeling out of place. I couldn’t remember the last time that I was actually present in homeroom. Immediately I was bombarded with side eyes and twisted lips. I didn’t have too many female friends and most of the girls in school hated me.

“Well, if it isn’t Miss Brooks. Haven’t seen you in a while, thought you had transferred,” Mr. Wilson said with a half smile.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” I replied, annoyed. Honestly, why the hell did he feel the need to put me on the spot? I sat down near the rear of the room and plopped down in the seat. Ciara, one of the only girls I’d considered somewhat of a friend, walked over and stood over the desk.

“Where the hell you been, girl? I’ve missed you.” She reached in to give me a hug.

“You know this school shit isn’t for me. I just didn’t hear from Mannie this morning so I didn’t have anywhere else to go but here.”

“You still fucking with him? Girl, I thought you were done with him. Every time I see him he got another bitch in his ride,” she said while sitting down next to me.

“Well, we were broken up for a minute; then we got back together,” I lied with a straight face. I wasn’t about to let this chick know that I was burning up on the inside. I’d always suspected him of cheating and I had even caught him a time or two but I wasn’t ready to give him up just yet. He’d done too much for me, hell more than my own father even.

“Oh, okay. Well, what else have you been doing, besides him?” She laughed.

I paused and stared at her for a second wondering why she would even part her lips to ask me about doing my man. Any other bitch would’ve been slapped, but because she was my girl I gave her a pass. “Getting money; you know me, I stay on the grind.”

“Yeah, that’s one thing I can say about you, you’ve always been a go-getter. What’s up with your sister? I heard through the grapevine that she was coming back to Philly for good.”

“I’d really rather not talk about her, you know . . .”

Saved by the bell: just as I was about to go into how I couldn’t care less about Milan or her return to Philly the homeroom bell rang. I quickly gathered my things and walked toward the door. I could hear Ciara’s feet shuffling behind me trying to keep up with my fast pace. I wanted to turn around and tell her to get a damn life, but instead I grabbed my headphones out of my bag and quickly put them in my ears hoping she’d get the point.

Talking about my sister was the last thing that I wanted to do. I’d worked hard to come out of her shadow. Regardless of what I did people always wanted to tell me how fucking wonderful she was and how I should look up to her. Man, if they only knew all of the scandalous shit she’d done at my age, they’d have been singing a completely different tune.

As I walked down the hall I felt my pager vibrating in my pocket. I quickly pulled it from the waist of my pants and saw Mannie’s number with 911 behind it. Since I was in school I didn’t have immediate access to a phone to call him back. I sighed aloud as I regretted coming to school, knowing he’d be pissed if I didn’t call him back.

“What’s wrong?” Ciara buzzed in my ear like a. . .